Fourteen More Months
by MarcoLover16
Summary: Stretch marks, mood swings, food cravings, and pain were not enough. I also had to take care of a living freaking thing. I was not going to be a good mother. It wasn't who I was. Charlie had dad written all over him, though.
1. Unfortunate

Author's Note: You may have noticed what I've done recently. Started a bunch of stories and not updated many ones frequently. I have been very busy. However, I have not abandoned most of my stories. When I have a lot of time, I will try to update. This one will be updated quite frequently, though (possibly… haha), because I have a very distinct plan. I have a bit of an obsession with Bella stories that involve the life of Charlie and Renée…how they ended up where they are. I don't hate Renée. All of my stories about Bella's parents, believe it or not, are connected. This one will be through Renée's point of view. This will be updated, hopefully, frequently, and there will be a sequel. Don't lose faith in me, please. I will try to update the others. Both Harry Potter ones and Twilight ones. By the way, I'm pro-life. :)

No.

Absolutely not.

It can't be.

I don't want it to be.

It had better not be.

Why me?

Is this a punishment?

Don't do this to me.

Please.

"No!"

There it was. The little plus sign was there, probably getting a good laugh out of my prayers. The little bastard had the nerve to turn in to a nasty little plus sign and then, of course, it had the nerve to poke fun. It knew I couldn't punish it. It knew that no matter how hard I kicked it, I would still be pregnant.

And that was a fact.

Not necessarily, I guess. It could have been wrong.

But it knew—the little bastard—that it was correct. I was pregnant. I was going to have a baby. I was going to be a _mother._

The whole wife thing wasn't bad enough?

"Renée?"

Crap.

"You here?"

"Yeah," I said loudly, tossing the pregnancy test out the window.

I walked out of the bathroom as quickly as possible, slamming the door closed behind me. "Hey," I said, greeting Charlie with a kiss. "You hungry?"

Charlie bit his lip. "Sure," he said reluctantly.

I smiled. "Don't worry. I'm feeling like normal pasta tonight."

I knew he hated my cooking. (He actually called my meals experiments.) But I also knew that if I made something terrible, he would eat it. He would never complain about anything I gave him. He was just wonderful that way.

"Sounds good."

Charlie settled into the living room while I went into the kitchen to cook. Cooking was honestly the best part of my day. I had my alone time to think, talk to myself, dance, sing… and anything else I wanted. No one bothered me during the hours of four to seven.

I looked forward to it.

Cooking would probably help me calm down. What was there to be upset about? "A mother," I muttered, shaking my head. It wasn't right. I wasn't created to be a mother.

"Garlic…"

As I searched for the ingredients, I realized I was less calm than before. If I couldn't find the garlic, I could just as easily lose my baby.

"Ridiculous," I said. I rolled my eyes. I was being silly. I would never _lose_ my baby.

"Unless I wanted to."

Why was I saying these terrible things? What was wrong with me? I was never the mother type, but that didn't mean I wanted to "lose" my baby in a trash can.

Terrible. So sick.

I didn't _have _to have it, though. "I'd be doing you a favor, baby."

Life isn't exactly the best place for a baby. With disease and war and storms and pain…who would complain? Who would care?

More importantly: Who would know?

People all over the world would praise my wonderful decision to not bring a poor innocent baby into a world so complicated, so…dangerous. Anyone who knew me well knew I couldn't be trusted with a baby in my hands. I was careless and flighty and impulsive and hotheaded. I didn't even _like _children.

As I stirred the pasta sauce, I thought about how much of a choice I really had. There were ways out of this. I chose what went into my body, so I could certainly choose what would come out of my body, right? Didn't that make sense?

A tiny part of me told me that it wasn't the baby's fault that he or she was in there. It didn't ask to become a part of me. It probably wanted to be in there less than I wanted it to be in there. It probably already knew that it would hate me, that I would screw it up, that I would let it down.

And that sparked the sprinklers.

"Are you serious?"

I wasn't sure who I was talking to, but I hoped whoever it was would shut me up. I did _not_ want Charlie to hear me crying.

Charlie.

Having a baby would probably make his life complete. He was so happy already. The baby would be the cherry on top of the freaking sundae of his life.

He loved me so much. I had no idea why.

"Renée?"

When did he develop such good freaking hearing? I didn't think he'd had such good freaking hearing when I asked him to help me clean the bathroom on Tuesday.

Charlie came right to me when he saw the tears. Why couldn't I make them stop?

He always knew just how to calm me down. What would I do without him? I gladly held onto him, pressing my face into his chest. He rubbed my book and whispered calming words to me. He told me that he loved me and that everything would be okay.

And then, of course, he asked me what was wrong.

"I don't know," I lied, laughing weakly. "I'm just so emotional. You know me."

He didn't seem to believe me. He raised an eyebrow. "Renée," he said, looking a bit worried.

I sighed. I was about to make his life freaking perfect.

"I have some good news."

Absolutely fantastic news.

"Oh?"

He looked so confused. He probably could not figure it out. If I waited…

No. He had a right to know.

"I'm pregnant."

Good-bye, Abortion.


	2. Free

Author's Note: Warning! This chapter is so not amazing. I know it took a while, and I wish I could honestly say it was worth the wait. I can type, however, that the next one should be really good. I'm actually looking forward to writing it. :) Today is Christmas Eve—first day of Christmas break! I'm going to post a lot of things during the break from school I have a bunch of stories that haven't been updated in a while, plus some one-shot ideas. Please review!

I was two months pregnant. No one but my husband and I knew. No one noticed anything out of the ordinary, and I never felt the need to announce the wonderful news. I told Charlie I didn't want anyone to get their hopes up. I wasn't known to be healthy or lucky—known for just the opposite, actually—so there was always a chance I could lose the baby.

I wouldn't want to kill their excitement.

Every single night my lovely husband would pray for a beautiful healthy baby, while I, in the same bed, shamelessly prayed for a miscarriage. It was hardly better than killing the baby myself, which I finally stopped trying to do.

The worst part about the whole matter was that it was all going perfectly. The life—the way it had been planed before my birth—was going exactly the way it was supposed to. Marry young. Have a family. I'd spend my life painting and cooking while my husband waited on me. It was so simple, so perfectly planned.

Loved. Cared for. Dependent.

"I hope you're happy, baby," I growled at my stomach. My eyes strayed to the window, watching the rain slide down it. "I hope you like the rain."

I wasn't sure how much longer I would be able to tolerate the parasite using my body as its own hotel.

"Damn baby."

The bedroom door flew open, and I jumped.

"Sorry," Charlie mumbled, sure he was about to be reprimanded.

I shrugged, unwilling to start another argument.

"You feel okay?" he asked quietly.

"Fine."

Seven more months. I'd be lucky to survive one more week.

I glanced out the window, shocked to see a car pull up in the driveway. "Who—"

"Llinda," said Charlie.

He didn't seem surprised.

"You just invite my friends over without telling me?"

"You invited her last night."

"Oh," I said, trying to calm myself down. There was no reason for me to take any anger out on Charlie. He had been nothing but patient with me throughout all of my nasty moods.

Charlie sighed. "I could tell her you're not feeling well."

I shook my head. I had to stop being a baby. "I'll talk to her."

I walked down the stairs, Charlie following, and opened the front door for Llinda and her daughters.

Two beautiful baby girls.

She smiled beautiful mothery smile. "Hey."

"Hello," I said, much less enthusiastically. "I forgot you were coming. I would have changed."

My hair was thrown up sloppily, pieces of it covering the words on my T-shirt. I was still in my pajamas.

"Nonsense," she said, cheerful as ever. "I'm no special guest. I have baby food on my pants!"

I tried to smile back at her, but it didn't work. She was holding one daughter in her left arm while the other slept in a car seat.

Suddenly, I really wanted a beer. Could one hurt?

I took Rebecca from her mother and kissed her soft forehead. Maybe I could do this. Maybe a baby would pull me out of the depression I was constantly suffering from.

I handed Rebecca to Charlie, who quite willingly took her, before I mumbled, "Gonna throw up."

Each day, the truth sunk in a bit deeper. I stared into the bathroom mirror and realized I would have to tell people soon. My mother, for sure, and then my friends in town.

"Mom," I whispered, squeezing my eyes shut. "Mom," I said, a bit more loudly. It still didn't sound right. I spent a good fifteen minutes in the bathroom before I could force myself to go back downstairs.

I put on a pathetic smile and sat down on the couch next to Charlie.

"I really appreciate this, Renée," Llinda said, biting her lip. "You're sure it's not too much trouble?"

"No trouble at all," I lied easily, faking a smile. Had I been intoxicated when I agreed to watch her children?

I tried to pay attention while she went on about special diets and a list of dos and don'ts. It wasn't easy to look particularly interested.

When she was finally done, I took Rebecca from her arms and Charlie watched Rachel snooze. If we were lucky, the two would sleep for most of their visit.

"Again, I appr—"

"It's fine," I said. "Really."

"Thank you," said Llinda. "I'll be back around three."

I watched her leave the house, wondering how she did it. Two children? She was so young…but so was every mother in Forks. Why was I the only one who seemed scared? Wasn't it right that I should be next? People were probably expecting me to pop one out soon.

Why didn't I want what everyone else wanted?

I needed to get away.

"I was thinking about taking a drive," I said casually, running a hand through my hair.

"A drive," Charlie repeated, still looking at Rachel. He tried to hide his concern, but I could see it. "Okay."

I just needed to be alone for a while.

Or at least alone with the baby.

My conscience told me that I probably should have stayed home to help watch the girls. It was wrong to take off. But if I didn't take a break from that house, I would have suffocated.

I knew, as soon as I drove out of Forks, that I had made the right decision. It was healthy to get out once in a while. Besides, after the baby was born, I'd have to take care of it all day while Charlie worked. I deserved to have a bit of freedom.

I stared blankly ahead, subconsciously driving, enjoying the air coming in from the open windows. I almost shut my eyes.

My dark bangs fell in front of my eyes, and that forced me to imagine what color hair my child would have. Would it be a girl? There was no point trying to deny her existence, so imagining her…or him…couldn't hurt.

If I ended up with twins like Billy and Llinda, I'd probably shoot myself in the foot.

And there she was. A beautiful brown-eyed baby girl. I could see the dimples in her cheeks and the sparkle in her eyes. Her tiny fingers would—

No.

I blinked, trying to concentrate on the road. My plan was to avoid getting attached. Maybe I'd be granted a miracle miscarriage. There was still time.

I felt guilty when I left the mall with six bags. I hadn't really planned on stopping, but the temptation was too great. I spent a ridiculous amount of money on items that I definitely did not need. But I would appease Charlie by showing him the baby outfits I'd picked out.

Just to make him happy, of course. I didn't give two hoots about the little socks and sweaters, but I had to admit that I enjoyed picking them out.

I walked quietly into the house, knowing that Rachel was easily disturbed.

Charlie glanced at me from the couch. "I'm going to hide the stuff," I said. He teased me incessantly about my shopping. At times, he would beg me to take some things back when we were tight on money. Sometimes, I got a bit out of hand, but Charlie always let me have my fun.

I put the shopping bags on our bed and took out every article of clothing I had bought for the baby, and for God only knows what reason, I hid the clothes under a dresser. I planned to leave them there until my baby was born.

I rushed back downstairs again to be of some help.

"Sorry I took so long," I said, settling down next to Charlie on the couch. "I was in a shopping mood."

"Mhmm." He didn't seem fazed.

Feeling better than I did before the outing, I was content to sit by my husband without a word. He slung an arm over my shoulder, obviously feeling the way I did. Comfortable and at ease, at least for the moment.

Not surprisingly, one of the babies started to fuss, ruining our moment.

"I'll take care of it," I mumbled.

I had to start being somewhat responsible.

I couldn't be happier when Llinda came back to pick up the girls. She thanked Charlie for agreeing to look after them on his day off. She thanked me, too, but I probably didn't deserve it.

After he shut the door behind her, Charlie gave me a concerned look. "You feeling okay?"

"Bad weather."

He nodded, understanding. I always hated the weather.

"Can we go somewhere?" I asked.

He definitely hadn't expected that.

"Sure," he said, always happy to please me. "Name the time and place."

"Any time, any place." I just wanted one last adventure before the baby was in my arms. "Soon."

"Sounds fine to me," he said, smiling.

So, I started planning. I was tired of being trapped in Forks.

Author's Note: See the note before this chapter! Please review. :)


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